Hearts Rekindled

by Patty Smith Hall

  A shaft of pain shot up the side of his head, and he unclenched his jaw. Claire needed to know the truth about their relationship, sooner rather than later. He’d abide by Merrilee’s wishes for the moment, if only to give her a reason to trust him. But it didn’t mean he liked it, he thought, stacking the sticky bowls and spoons into a pile and heading to the kitchen.

  Because he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  Chapter Nine

  The sun had partially sunk behind a grove of tall pines lining the front yard when Merrilee pulled up to the front of her house. Blackout curtains had already been drawn, slices of light escaping around the thick cloth, assuring her that life in the boardinghouse had gone on without her today. She tugged the keys out of the ignition, then sat back, resting her head against the glass window, the remaining heat of the day falling around her like the warm rags physical therapists wrapped around Claire’s leg during her treatments.

  Every bone, every muscle in her body cried out for a hot bath and her bed. She’d get used to coping with six children, seven if you counted Ms. Aurora. She had to. The only other option was the sanitarium. Yes, she’d get used to it sooner or later—but she wasn’t there yet.

  What would she have done without John? Merrilee closed her eyes and smiled. The man was a marvel! By the time she’d carried a platter of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into the dining room, he’d made short work of the children’s breakfast dishes, removing every speck of honey, every drop of oatmeal from the table. The linens had also been replaced, the chairs scrubbed of all the debris. He’d even managed to give the wooden panels in the floor a shine that rivaled the sun. Probably should thank his military training for those cleaning skills. Or his time with the Civilian Conservation Corps.

  She could already see how easy it would be to depend on him, to count on his presence and his help. But she couldn’t let herself trust in him, not when he still intended to leave. What could be so important that it would take him away from Marietta? And why wouldn’t he tell her?

  A rapping of knuckles against the truck’s window made Merrilee jump and she stared out into the waning light, the tension in her shoulders causing a dull ache at the base of her skull as she made out a face.

  Oh, no, not him. Didn’t the man crawl under a rock at night? She rolled the glass down slowly, reluctant to speak. “Major Evans.”

  He folded both arms against the door frame, looking like a tomcat who’d trapped a defenseless mouse. “You stood me up this morning.”

  As if it were a date or something. Please! She swallowed back a retort. “I’m sorry I missed our meeting. An emergency came up.”

  “I heard.” Evans slid off his hat, his dark hair plastered to his head as if he’d used a whole can of rationed motor oil to keep every strand in place.

  Merrilee mashed her lips tightly together. Only four people knew where she’d been, and three of them had spent all day at Aurora’s farm. His source could only be Adams.

  “Where’s Claire? I thought she went with you.”

  It wasn’t any of his business where her daughter was, but as he’d only find out anyway, she might as well tell him. “She stayed back at Ms. Aurora’s.” It’d been more than that; she’d begged to sleep over with the two younger girls. It was the first time in over a year Claire had asked for an outing like that. John hadn’t made it easier for her to refuse, telling her she’d be able to pack faster without having to worry about Claire. How he’d convinced her, she’d never know.

  Now she was glad Claire hadn’t come home with her. Explaining Major Evans to her bright, curious daughter was one conversation she didn’t want to have. “Doesn’t Adams know about patient confidentiality?”

  Evans shrugged. “I ran into him picking up a sandwich at the lunch counter and he was in a huff, not that I blame him. Those kids Aurora keeps, they give me the heebie-jeebies.”

  Bile rose up in her throat. She swallowed it back down. “Well, I’m sure there are a lot of folks around here who think you’re pretty creepy, too.”

  He snorted. “I can only hope. So how is she?”

  As if the man cared. “You mean Adams didn’t give you a full report?”

  “Oh, he did. I just wanted to hear your version.”

  Merrilee’s stomach tightened. Adams refused to so much as tell her and John what was wrong with Aurora, but he could report it to Major Evans? “She’s better this afternoon, but will need to be on bed rest for the next few weeks.”

  One side of Evans’s mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “That makes your job a bit easier. It was a stroke of genius, you volunteering to watch over those mush heads of hers. Very smart, thinking on your feet like that.”

  A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. “You’re wasting your time investigating her.”

  His eyebrows furrowed together. “Now, why would you say that?”

  “Adams didn’t tell you?” Merrilee asked. Figured the doctor would reveal everything to the major except the information that might exonerate her. “Aurora’s been feeling like this for months, but never called the doctor because she can’t afford it, and if you saw her place...” she hesitated, the memory of John’s expression causing a pang deep down inside “...you’d see it’s run down and needs a lot of work.”

  “So? She could be hiding it. Plus you’re forgetting she paid cash for that farm right next door to hers. Where did she get that money?”

  “She purchased the farm for someone else.”

  “That’s convenient,” Evans scoffed. “Did she happen to tell you who this person could be?”

  He was trolling for another suspect, not caring how much of a fool he made of himself. And that was what all this spy nonsense was, foolish.

  But, she thought, if she told Evans John had bought the old Todd place, he’d look into it. Not that the major would find anything to tie her ex-husband to the black market ring the major was investigating. John had been in the Pacific serving his country for the past few years. But he might uncover the reasons John needed to leave Marietta again, and if he did, maybe she could get some answers. “John Davenport. He had a savings account that Ms. Aurora had access to and bought the place when it became available for a good price.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  The cab of the truck grew uncomfortably hot. “Why?”

  “I need to find out as much as I can about this man. I mean, he’s sent a known suspect in a black market operation large amounts of cash, not to mention he just shows up here in Marietta after, what? A dozen years? And you were married to him.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “Wait a minute.” Evans hesitated, pointing his finger at her. “Didn’t he buy your father’s house and put it in your name?”

  Merrilee bit the inside of her lip. This wasn’t what she’d wanted when she’d told Evans the truth about Aurora’s purchase. John didn’t deserve Evans’s pinpoint focus on every aspect of his life. “Yes, but...”

  A wicked glow lit his eyes. “Where does an uneducated dirt farmer like Davenport get that kind of cash?”

  The urge to smack the living daylights out of the major grew stronger with each passing second, but it wouldn’t do any good. “John’s always been a hard worker. Maybe he just scrimped and saved his money.”

  “And bought houses in a town he hasn’t bothered to step foot in in twelve years?” The major shook his head. “I’m not buying it.”

  “Are you forgetting he was in the Pacific with the Seabees for the past few years?”

  Evans chuckled. “He wouldn’t be the first soldier we’ve caught making money off Uncle Sam.”

  What had she done? Was she so desperate for information about John that she’d hung him out to dry? “He’s a good man, Patrick.”

  Evans grabbed his hat from the hood of the truck a
nd put it on, tilting it at an awkward angle. “It’ll be better for you if he’s not. If we can find something on him that helps our case, then we’ll be a lot more inclined to do a favor in return. Keep giving me information like that and Claire will be in Warm Springs before you know it.”

  * * *

  John eased himself into the porch swing, the chains clanging softly as he finally settled in. The cool morning air caused gooseflesh to form across his bare forearms, but the temperature would rise quickly, especially when he started loading Merrilee and Claire’s belongings into the truck for their trip back to Aurora’s.

  He drew in a deep breath, the faint hint of freshly plowed dirt teasing his senses, an excitement he’d long forgotten pulsing through his veins. His palms itched at the thought of plunging his hands into the soft, warm soil again. Maybe, if he got Aurora’s fields planted in time, he could put some time in at his place, maybe even put in a small crop of his own. Nothing big; just a victory garden, some beans and tomatoes, vegetables Merrilee could can. Everything else would have to wait until after he knew how long his prison sentence would be.

  John closed his eyes. Lord, I only did what I felt was right. Please deliver me from the charges made against me if it be Your will.

  He barely opened his eyes at the sound of the house’s door opening, watching Merrilee through a curtain of dark lashes. The sun had risen a fraction of an inch more, allowing color to seep slowly into the black-and-gray landscape. She stood in the doorway, the dark snood at the nape of her neck doing very little to hold in the rampant strands of golden-red hair from curling around her oval face. The dress she’d changed into yesterday for their trip to Aurora’s had been traded in for a pair of neat overalls, not denim like his, but a mossy green that he imagined brought out the golden sparks that rimmed her irises. A white sweater hung around her shoulders.

  The ruffles of her sweater swayed in a soft rhythm with each breath. “What did you do? Follow me home last night?”

  John sat up. He’d considered it, worried that the piece of junk Merrilee called a truck might fall apart on her while she was only halfway home. But Ellie had had a bad dream, and Billy had snuck out to the barn sometime after lights out. “I thought we could get an early start, maybe get back before the kids are up and about.”

  “Have we got time for a cup of coffee first?”

  After barely four hours of sleep, he wasn’t sure he’d get through the day without it. “Please.”

  She pulled the edges of the sweater around her. “Be right back.”

  John settled back into the swing, the gentle twitter of a songbird waking along with the morning singing a lullaby in the trees behind him. A squirrel hurried across the lawn, his thin tail shaking furiously behind him as he threw himself against the trunk of a water oak and scurried into the branches. The faint glow of light disappeared around the corner of the house, and John could almost taste the cathead biscuits baking in the oven.

  He could understand why Merrilee loved this place. Good or bad, it was the home where she’d spent most of her life. At least Jacob had given his daughter a stable childhood. John’s own parents had changed zip codes as often as most people changed clothes, bouncing from town to town, as if the doctor in the next city held out more hope than the last six. Mama had died, holding out hope for Matthew, and Dad chose to leave rather than face the heartache anymore.

  The screen door squealed slightly as Merrilee shouldered it open, a swirl of steam rising from the two cups she held. The door slamming shut would wake up her whole house of boarders. John jumped up from the swing, aiming to catch the door for her, but she managed herself, hooking it with her foot and gently securing it in the door frame.

  She handed him his coffee. “I’ve become quite the acrobat since opening the boardinghouse. Will probably hone some more skills out at Ms. Aurora’s.”

  Teasing him, was she? “Well, until the circus comes to town, how about letting me help you out, okay? You could have been badly burned.”

  “You don’t need to worry about me.” She stared at him over the rim of her cup. “I can take care of myself.”

  Odd that the thought made him sad, when the girl he’d left behind had been so sheltered, she couldn’t even drive a car. All she’d ever wanted was for old man Daniels to take note of her, to see her as more than a liability, as a daughter he could love.

  John gulped down a mouthful of coffee. Jacob Daniels never knew what a treasure he had in this woman, how good Merrilee was to him. And Merrilee had never had a clue of just how special she was. Not a clue.

  Had John ever bothered to tell her how wonderful she was, to show her?

  No, he’d been too busy trying to farm the land her father had leased to him. And when the crop had failed, when there’d been no other way to support their dreams, he’d joined the Civilian Conservation Corps. Had scraped by on next to nothing so he could save their money and give Merrilee the home she deserved. Wasn’t that enough to show her how much he valued her for who she was?

  The question rattled him. Why did the answer matter so much to him? Even if he knew he’d be free to stay in Marietta and try again, what would be the point? Merrilee was the one who’d wanted the divorce, the one who had stopped loving him. It was hardly likely that she’d changed her mind about that. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind. “I didn’t wake up everyone in the house, did I?”

  She shook her head. “Most of the people living here have to get up early to get to their jobs over at the plant.”

  “And you?”

  “Who do you think cooks for them all?” Merrilee chuckled, the soft morning sunlight unveiling a delicate pink blooming in her cheeks. “Do you think we can handle this? I mean...”

  John had asked himself the same question at least a half a dozen times since they’d decided to work together to help Aurora out. Early this morning, staring up into the seemingly endless darkness, he realized the only hope of making this work was to be as honest as they could with each other. “Because our marriage didn’t work out.”

  She sputtered on her coffee, coughing and choking. He patted her on her back, her shoulders delicate as butterfly’s wings beneath his touch. He felt her breath almost as she drew it. “Right to the point, aren’t you?”

  Dropping his hand to his side, he took a step back to give her some distance. “And I want you to tell me exactly what you think, too. We need to be upfront about how we feel in uncertain situations, even if we don’t agree.”

  She wrapped her hands around her cup, her eyes fixed on the liquid in her mug. Why did she seem to be hesitating over his suggestion? Was he not the only one who had something to hide?

  Her head lifted, her chin notched a bit higher. “Then tell me how you came to live with Ms. Aurora.”

  Of course, John chided himself. Merrilee would want a show of good faith, a morsel to demonstrate he intended to live up to his word. At least her first question hadn’t been about his reasons for leaving in a few weeks. He couldn’t bear to tell her what a mess he’d made of his life, not yet anyway.

  Maybe it was time she knew about Matthew anyway. “First time I met Ms. Aurora, she’d caught me stealing bread from old man Smith’s grocery store.”

  Merrilee blinked. “Were you really that hungry?”

  John felt the corner of his mouth tug up into a smile. Only one other person had ever questioned why he’d stuffed that loaf under his shirt, and she had taken him and his brother into her home. His gut tightened. How would Merrilee react? “It was the only thing Matthew would eat.”

  “That’s your brother, isn’t it? Billy mentioned him yesterday,” she said with a note of disappointment. Was that because John had never said a word about him? “Why would Matthew only eat bread?”

  “Stubbornness, mainly. But I’d seen him swell up from just taking a bottle of milk when he was a baby, an
d I was afraid if he had another reaction like that, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

  She nodded. “How old were you?”

  “Ten. Mattie was five then. Mama had died the winter before from influenza and Dad... Well, he tried his best to find a job and settle down, but I guess two little boys were just too much for him,” John said. His father had carted them off to every children’s home around Atlanta, begging for someone to take them off his hands. Most were willing to take John, but simply shook their heads at Matthew, bundled up in an old hand wagon, his arms and legs drawn into his body at painful angles. John had refused to go without his brother. If he didn’t watch out for Mattie, who would? In the end, it hadn’t mattered.

  “What happened to him?”

  A dull ache lodged in his chest. “He got pneumonia when he was seven. We thought he was over the worst of it, but the doctor said Mattie’s heart just gave out.” He hesitated, the words sticking to the roof of his mouth, still difficult to say. “It’s common in children with mongolism.”

  Chapter Ten

  The world stilled around them for the briefest of moments. “Why didn’t you tell me about Mattie before now?”

  He searched his mind for reasons but came up blank. “I don’t know. I guess I thought I was protecting you.”

  “From what?”

  How could she ask? Surely she understood how cruel people could be. The taunts, the name-calling. John hadn’t wanted that for her. “I didn’t want you to be embarrassed by your husband’s brother.”

  There, he had said it. But would she ever realize how much it had cost him to keep that secret from her? How many times he’d wanted to share a memory, talk about Mattie only to shove that notion away, afraid of how Merrilee’s family might react? How they might take it out on her?

  Her lips pursed together in a tight bow. “Is that the story you’ve been telling yourself all this time?”

  “Excuse me?”